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Kevin Allison
Hey, folks, this is Kevin. On this week's episode of Risk, you'll hear Walter Zimmerman.
Walter Zimmerman
I didn't care how many beatings I would get. I would be the hero of the Junior Boys. I would be a legend in my own time.
Kevin Allison
That and more. But first, hey, if you're hearing this before or on March 27, come on out to the Risk live show in New York City. It's one of the last ones that I personally will be in town to host for a good while. You might even get a chance to get up on that stage and share a five minute story of your own on the theme. Didn't see that coming. So go to risk-show.com live for tickets for Thursday, March 27th in New York City. We'll be right back.
Emmy Turner
Where'd you get those shoes? Easy. They're from dsw. Because DSW has the exact right shoes for whatever you're into right now. You know, like the sneakers that make office hours feel like happy hour, the.
Kevin Allison
Boots that turn grocery aisles into runways.
Emmy Turner
And all the styles that show off.
Manolo Matos
The many sides of you, from daydreamer.
Emmy Turner
To multitasker and everything in between. Because you do it all in really great shoes. Find a shoe for every you at your DSW store or dsw.com every day.
Kevin Allison
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Walter Zimmerman
Yeah, sure thing.
Emmy Turner
Hey, you sell that car yet?
Kevin Allison
Yeah, sold it to Carvana.
Emmy Turner
Oh, I thought you were selling to that guy.
Kevin Allison
The guy who wanted to pay me in foreign currency, no interest over 36 months? Yeah, no. Carvana gave me an offer in minutes, picked it up and paid me on the spot. It was so convenient.
Walter Zimmerman
Just like that? Yeah. No hassle?
Manolo Matos
None.
Emmy Turner
That is super convenient.
Walter Zimmerman
Sell your car to Carvana and swap hassle for convenience.
Emmy Turner
Pick up these may apply.
Kevin Allison
If you don't know about flyer deals on Instacart, this message is for you. Flyer deals are like strolling through your favorite store looking for deals, but you're scrolling your phone and maybe you're in bed. Because getting delivery doesn't mean you have to miss deals like you get at the store, like the one creamer that doesn't make your stomach hurt or the pasta sauce he can't not buy when it's on sale. So download the Instacart app, shop flyers and never miss a deal on one of your favorites. Plus get delivery in as fast as 30 minutes. Now here's the show. Hello folks, this is Risk, the show where people tell true stories they never thought they'd dare to share. I'm Kevin Allison and this is Cece Coakley behind me now with a song called Bonus. And what's so bonus y about this episode? It's Patreon Picks number five, where we take a few stories that only our Patreon members were able to access previously to give you a sampling of over 250 bonus stories over there on Patreon. Now this is all to convince you you've gotta become a member. You don't have to, but we would love it if you became a member@patreon.com risk as well. Now listen, the third and final story on today's episode concerns child sexual abuse. So I just wanted to give you fair warning about that right up at the top. But in a little bit, we're going to hear from Walter Zimmerman, a dear friend of the show and a wonderful fella. But first, a story that Emmy Turner told at our Los Angeles show last April. Here's Emmy now with a story we call Existential Crisis.
Emmy Turner
I am okay if this is all.
Manolo Matos
I.
Emmy Turner
The screech of rubber grinding slowly against cement, the thunk of metal tapping lightly on a wall, amplified tenfold by the reverberations within a small space, dim light illuminating the blank stare of the father of the girls I had just been babysitting, watching me struggle to navigate out of the tightest parking garage in Santa Monica. Not offering to help, just holding up the clicker, repeatedly opening the gate as it closed over and over again because I could not get out fast enough. Every lowering of the gate judging me. Why don't you have your life together? Why can't you be a responsible adult? Every lowering of the gate crushing me, making me feel smaller. I finally skidded up the ramp, addled, ashamed. And as I rushed onto the 10 Freeway, I thought about my friend who had so confidently proclaimed he had a credo by which he lived his life, a few words which dictated every choice he made. My life seemed way too jumbled to be narrowed down to a simple credo. Suddenly all of the noise of the traffic whizzing by dissipated into the static of my brain. To be liked. My credo was to be liked. And it was a terrible credo by which to live. Not to be likable, not to act in a manner deserving of being liked, not to like myself, to be liked pretending to be what other people wanted me to be. And this credo was destroying my life. I melted into the Santa Monica freeway, my tears rendering me blind and my grief rendering me deaf. I later joked to a therapist that I was facetiously calling this moment my existential crisis. Ha ha. Because modern people don't really have those, right? And he told me that that is the textbook definition of an existential crisis. A moment at which an individual questions the very foundations of his or her life. I thought, all the way back to middle school. Every choice I had made up until this moment on the 10 had been guided by that credo. And in the last few months, it had gotten out of control. In order to be liked, I had to spin a web of lies to carefully orchestrate the version of my life which each person around me saw. The previous December, before I moved into my new house while I was still living with my parents, I had started dating an amicable guy from my class. Brian was never going to be the love of my life, but he sure was likable. And more importantly, he liked me. Brian was the kind of guy who learned to play the ukulele in college because he thought it would give him his first shot with the ladies, because suddenly, being an adorable nerd was in fashion. Our dates primarily consisted of replaying King's Quest, a computer game series from the late 80s and early 90s. Brian was a far cry from my physical type. We weren't dating very seriously, but maybe it was bigger in his head because he didn't have as much experience. But in January, my ex Sean stepped back into my life, not knowing I was dating anybody new. Well, I didn't want to let anybody down. I didn't want to disappoint either of them. I had to be what everybody wanted me to be. My friends all know that I overshare. So suddenly being vague or distant would have raised red flags. So I had to basically continue to talk about everything in great detail. This meant that I was making up very colorful truths designed to satisfy everybody without revealing the full truth to anybody. Timelines were skewed, my whereabouts altered. I told my friends I had dinner with my parents on Valentine's Day. My relationship with my ex, Sean, was actually better than it had ever been before. But I couldn't share my delight. And then came the opportunity for me to move into a new house with some of my best friends. Sean was so happy for me, so proud of me. And things would be even better for us because he had always had an issue with the fact that I still lived with my parents. He wanted to help me move. Oh, no, he couldn't. I would be outed. My friends would learn I was dating him again. He would learn he was a secret. My only choice was to break up with him, but I couldn't. I had no excuse. Things were great between us. He was amazing. And if I broke up with him for no reason, guess what? He wouldn't like me. So then what was my only choice? My only choice was to pretend to him that I was pregnant, fake the process of having an abortion, and then pretend to be so overwhelmed with grief that I couldn't bear to stay with him. Duh. It would be so tragic that we could break up, but he would still have to like me.
Walter Zimmerman
Somehow.
Emmy Turner
This was the only option I even considered at the time. It seemed foolproof. I did extensive online research on what it was like to have an abortion. Physically, emotionally, psychologically. I dove headfirst into this psychotic game of pretend. But while I was going through this fake loss, my real loss was that I was giving up the person I truly loved because I was afraid not everybody would like me. But here's the real ironic kick in the nuts. Two weeks later, I found out I actually was pregnant. That therapist I mentioned earlier. Well, obviously I wasn't seeing him yet. But he later explained to me that sometimes our bodies know something before we do. And that's probably what planted the idea in my head for the whole elaborate ruse. But now, you see, I didn't have that supportive boyfriend by my side. He had been great. He had said all the right things. He had given me all the right kindnesses, but tried to be respectful and give me the space I was requesting. But although I had pretended I wanted space from him, now that it was actually happening, all I wanted was his company. But you can't exactly approach a person and say, hey, remember two weeks ago when we went through hell? That was just practice. I need you for realsies now. So I had to relive my meticulously researched trauma. But the reality of it was much worse. I wanted nothing more but to have Sean back. But I had destroyed those ties. As for Brian, the affable guy from class, I could no longer stomach the smell of him. I wanted to vomit every time we were in the room together, I was angry at him for existing, so I broke up with him too. Then I felt truly alone. The reason I wanted so desperately to be liked was because I love and need other people so much. And I have known since I was 10 years old that my biggest fear in life was not death, but being alone. And there I was, living my nightmare. I have never felt so close to insanity as when I walked such a fine line between the lies I had constructed and the truth I was living. I had to constantly check in with my own brain to check what was real. I really had been pregnant. I really did take a pill that made me writhe in pain for an entire night in my new bed, unable to scream because then I would have had to explain myself. My new housemates couldn't have liked me very much at the time because I spent the first two weeks that we were living together too depressed to change out of my fuzzy yellow bathrobe. It became apparent that moving out of your parents house is expensive. And so are abortions. Real ones. Sean had offered to help me pay, but that was when it was fake. So obviously I had said no. Savings out the window. I needed some form of additional income. A well meaning friend offered to set me up with a babysitting gig. Great. Stepping into that maternal role was exactly what I needed to feel well adjusted. So I put on real clothes and got myself out of the trap into which I'd wedged myself and into another trap in the tightest parking garage in Santa Monica where a gate repeatedly crashed down. Judgmental eyes of the father of the girls I'd just been babysitting upon me. Eyes that clearly did not like me. If I couldn't navigate out of his parking garage, I shouldn't have been trusted to watch his children. Every lowering of the gate, judging me, crushing me, making me feel smaller.
Kevin Allison
We'll be right back folks. This episode is sponsored by BetterHelp. You know, when you think of your favorite leaders or mentors, they don't have all the answers, but they know when to seek support, ask questions from their community. This is a society that kind of glorifies hyper independence, right? The individuality is such an obsession. So it's easy to forget that we're all better when we have a support system behind us. Therapy is a huge source of support for so many people in many areas of their lives. It's a place where you can always ask for help. I was talking to someone just earlier today about how running my stories that I present on risk by My therapist has sometimes been a really profound experience. It's helped me to understand my experience is even better and know what to make of how I'm learning and growing. Well, BetterHelp is fully online making therapy affordable and convenient. Serving over 5 million people worldwide, you can access a diverse network of more than 30,000 credentialed therapists with a wide range of specialties. Easily switch therapists anytime at no extra cost. Build your own support system with BetterHelp. Visit betterhelp.com risk today to get 10% off your first month. That's BetterHelp. H E L p.com risk hey, it's me, Jeff Probst.
Walter Zimmerman
I'm excited to share that Survivor's back with our 48th season and alongside it we're bringing you a brand new season of On Fire, the only official Survivor podcast.
Kevin Allison
If you are a Survivor super fan.
Walter Zimmerman
You will not want to miss the.
Kevin Allison
Deep dive into every episode. And we do it from three different points of view.
Manolo Matos
First, you have me, the showrunner Survivor.
Walter Zimmerman
Answering how and why we made the.
Manolo Matos
Sometimes controversial choices we did.
Walter Zimmerman
Then you have Jay Wolf, my co.
Kevin Allison
Host who represents the superfan, asking the.
Walter Zimmerman
Burning questions that you are shouting at your TVs. And finally, you get the point of.
Kevin Allison
View of an all time great Survivor player.
Walter Zimmerman
And their job is to give us the insight into exactly what is happening.
Kevin Allison
On the beach this season.
Manolo Matos
We are joined by somebody I can't.
Kevin Allison
Wait to hear from, the winner of.
Walter Zimmerman
Survivor 47, Rachel Lamont.
Manolo Matos
I'm so excited to join the On Fire squad to help break down Survivor 48. Join us every Wednesday immediately following the show.
Walter Zimmerman
Listen to On Fire, the official Survivor podcast with me, Jeff Probst every Wednesday after the show. Wherever you get your podcast. Hey, I'm Andy. If you don't know me, it's probably because I'm not famous. But I did start a men's grooming company called Harry's. The idea for Harry's came out of a frustrating experience I had buying razor blades. Most brands were overpriced over, designed and out of touch. At Harry's, our approach is simple. Here's our secret. We make sharp, durable blades and sell them at honest prices for as low as $2 each. We care about quality so much that we do some crazy things like buy a world class German blade factory. Obsessing over every detail means we're confident in offering a 100% quality guarantee. Millions of guys have already made the switch to Harry's, so thank you if you're one of them and if you're not. We hope you give us a try with this special offer. Get a Harry Starter set with a five blade razor weighted handle, shave gel and a travel cover. All for just three bucks plus free shipping. Just go to Harry's dot com and enter code man at checkout. That's Harry's dot com code man. Enjoy.
Manolo Matos
As a parent, you want to give your child every opportunity to succeed. But let's be honest, sometimes homework questions leave us stumped or we wish they had it a bit more challenging when they're ahead in class. That's where IXL learning can help. IXL is an online learning program that supports kids from Pre K to 12th grade in math, language arts, science and social studies. It's designed to help kids truly master topics while keeping learning fun and engaging. Whether your child is catching up, staying on track, or aiming to get ahead.
Emmy Turner
IXL offers personalized learning to meet their needs.
Manolo Matos
Plus it saves you time and money. No more searching for multiple tutors or programs. IXL is like having everything you need in one place. The best part? It's backed by research. Kids using IXL consistently score higher on tests and it works for all kids, no matter their grade or learning style. IXL is used in 96 of the top 100 school districts in the U.S. so you know it's the real deal. Make an impact on your child's learning. Get IXL now and listeners of this podcast can get an exclusive 20% off IXL membership when they sign up today at ixlearning.comaudio Visit ixlearning.comaudio to get the most effective learning program out there at the best price.
Walter Zimmerman
We're back.
Kevin Allison
This is Risk. This is Milano Basa remixing the dining rooms behind me now and we just heard from Emmy Turner. Folks, one of the things we love so much about our Patreon is that it feels like such a community over there. Our Patreon members converse with us all the time over there and some of the feedback is just invaluable. This week a Patreon member named Lisa made a suggestion over there that suddenly sparked a Eureka moment for me. I realized that I, Kevin Allison, have not taught an eight week long storytelling workshop where each student gets to share two to three stories and get feedback from from me and from the whole class. Plus my various lectures and Q and A and a little showcase at the end for friends and family and every story would be up for consideration for being included on Risk. I personally, Kevin Allison, have not taught one of those workshops in probably 10 years. I used to teach all of the workshops that our school, the Story Studio, offered. But then the corporate workshop started and I switched to them and then we started hiring our phenomenal faculty and the various workshops started being taught by, well, everyone but me. But this message that Lisa sent to me on Patreon this week made me think, whoa, wait a minute. There's only four or five months left before I moved to Thailand, so I have just enough time to offer a possibly final few workshops online for people in the United States time zones. I'll tell you what, email me at kevinrisk-show.com if you're interested. You see, I would have to cap each class at 15 students so I could start the first one on Monday, April 7th at 8:30pm Eastern Standard Time. I could start the second one on Tuesday, May 6th at 8:30pm Standard Time. And each of those would be eight week workshops. The first one always happening on Monday evenings, the second one always happening on Tuesday evenings. And if those two fill up, I would have just enough time to start a third one on June 4th at 8:30pm so the one that starts in April Mondays. One that starts in May, Tuesdays. The one that starts in June Wednesdays. Now here's the thing. My lectures and doing Q&As and sometimes even doing story analyses of the students favorite risk stories that will all be on new private links videos that I'll create just for these workshops so that the actual Zoom sessions we spend together will have plenty of time for 15 people to share two to three stories over the course of eight weeks. And we'll make the last meeting a sort of a showcase that you can invite friends and family to as well. But 11pm Eastern would be the very latest that any of those zoom sessions would go. The whole thing will cost $500 and you can pay in two installments if you need to. And you should email me right away at kevinrisk-show.com ask questions like none of what I just announced is absolutely written in stone yet. Maybe we could do one on a Saturday or a Sunday instead. But even if it's just to ask questions or make suggestions, don't wait to email me because I think these are going to fill up fast. Put Kevin's online storytelling workshop in the subject line. I'm so excited about this new idea. I can't believe it had not occurred to me before. Kevin finally returns to the storytelling teacher's seat right before moving to a very different time zone where it would not be so easy to do so thank you so much to Lisa over@patreon.com risk for sparking that idea in the nick of time. And I want to give a big thanks to Bruce Carrick, who increased his monthly donation amount, and to Katya Anderson, who paid her donation amount a year in advance. If you're not a member over at Patreon, what you're hearing on this very episode are examples of the bonus stories we have over there. Well over 250 and our Patreon support has dipped in the past several months, so we really need to get it back up. So join us at patreon.com risk and if you want to make a one time donation, that's at paypal me/riskshow. Now, the final story on today's episode is by our dear friend Manola Matos, who is also a passionate member of our Patreon community. But listen, there's child sexual abuse in that story and violence. So heads up about that. But next we're gonna hear a story from Walter Zimmerman, who is a very dear friend of our audio director, John La Sala, and John's wonderful wife Kate. And Walter has shared some downright classic stories on the show before. So here he is again, Walter Zimmerman, with a story we call the Remote Control Thunderbird Convertible.
Walter Zimmerman
This is a story about what I think of as the second worst Christmas present I ever got. Now, I have to clear up that the first worst Christmas present is still a toss up between the ugly tie. A boss of mine gave me that. The only honest thing I could say is I've never seen anything like it. And then one of my teaching colleagues when I was teaching in college gave me what I thought was a luscious drop of about 2 ounces of the finest chocolate in the world wrapped in aluminum foil. It turned out to be a drop of owl vomit, which I was told that if I was really lucky, I could soak it in warm water and perhaps find a mouse's skull. I'm leaving top worst out there because I still think there might be something else waiting for me. But the second worst I'm pretty clear about it was 1956. I was nine years and three months old. Dwight Eisenhower, the bald guy was president. Norma Jean Baker was just about to change her name formally to Marilyn Monroe. And Rin Tin Tin was the big star on television. Now, the previous fall in Belleville, Illinois, my parents, who had been married for 10 years and had five children, had decided to get a divorce. My mother actually planned this long before my father even knew about it and told Us, me and my four younger siblings, that she was going to take one of us with her. I, of course, prayed that it would be me, because I was the oldest and I could dress myself. But as it turned out, she chose my sister. And one day, just shortly after my ninth birthday, my dad piled my three brothers in the back seat of the black Buick and me in the front because I was the oldest. And we drove east from Belleville, Illinois, where the family fell apart, to my Aunt Marie's house, which is just outside of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. We spent about six weeks during which it seemed as though the lights were never on. And then In January of 1956, my father piled my three brothers and me back into the black Buick and drove us not all that far from my Aunt Marie's house out into the country with corn fields and woods on either side. And then up a low hill to where there was a big house. And he left us there and drove away. So at nine years and three months old, in January of 1956, I found myself with my three brothers living at the United Presbyterian Children's Orphanage in Mars, Pennsylvania, where they principally make bricks. Now, I don't usually talk about this part of my life because I really feel like it's kind of. I'm going to be contagious to people. I don't want them to think that these things really happen, but they do, and there's a lot I don't actually know. I cannot explain to you the legalities of how it was that children who had living parents were put into an orphanage. I don't have an answer. The only way to get answers to these is to have a seance. Because everyone who knows is dead. All I can tell you is I was nine years old and three months. I had three younger brothers. People say, oh, well, it's really better then that you were all there together. It's like saying, well, isn't it nice that you had adjoining cabins in the Titanic or that you had the plague at the same time? It just doesn't really pay off. Two of my brothers were so young, they were kept in a nursery. A different part of the building that I never saw. My brother George, who was in first grade, and I were put into the junior boys department. That was first grade through sixth grade. I didn't see the whole building because we weren't there as tourists. We were there as inmates. I was only on the third floor, and then I was downstairs in the big dining room where they had all the round tables where we sat and my brothers And I were not put together. My brother George slept in one end of the third floor. I slept in the other. It was really totally confusing. My father, in fact, before we left Illinois, had taken me aside in one of the seven conversations we had during the 40 years that I knew them. He took me aside and he said, you boys will never live in an orphanage. And then, months later, I came across a bronze plaque hidden on a wall someplace that said, united Presbyterian Children's Orphanage. And if I hadn't had a chore to do, I would still be standing there today in strict, utter unbelief. I had no idea where I was, and I had to learn what to do. So the bell rang in the morning. We jumped up out of bed. We ran into the bathroom where there were five sinks for 20 boys. We brushed our teeth with salt or baking soda because that's what the orphanage provided. Then we ran back and made our beds, and we got dressed as quickly as we could. Then we ran to get in line to go downstairs to have breakfast. Then we ran from the breakfast room to the cloak room, where, if it was school season, we would gather our books. And if it was summer, we would gather our gardening tools. And then we would run to stand in line. And then, if it was school season, we would run to school, which was the only safe place there was. And then I would drag myself back. We would take our lunch to school, a little bag of a sandwich, maybe a piece of fruit, drag myself back when school was over, and we would go back up to the third floor and have Bible study. And then we would come down and have dinner. Then we would go, all of us, all of the grades from first grade up through high school down to the gymnasium, sit at big, long tables and do our homework. Then we'd go back up to the third floor. We would read our Bibles again and then go to sleep, many of us crying as time went past. On Sundays, it was a slightly different schedule. We would get up earlier than ever and go to church. We had Sunday school. We had church service. We had lunch. We had another church service. And then twice during the week, I think it was Tuesdays and Thursdays, the boys and girls would gather. The younger kids would sit in the big, wide staircase. It was in the entrance hall. Junior girls on one side, junior boys on the other. Older boys and girls sitting in folding chairs. On the ground floor, there was a podium, and one of the older boys would stand there, or girls stand there and mispronounce almost every word in the King James Version. Of the Bible. I remember during one of the silent periods during one of these church services, we were probably supposed to be praying. The little boy sitting next to me pointed out that he had an itchy place on his arm. And I leaned over and being the helpful kind of guy, I said, I looked at him and said, you know, I think that's leprosy. I didn't expect him to scream. And then he started to cry. And I came so close that night to getting a beautiful from Miss Thrasher. Miss Thrasher was the house mother. Miss Thrasher was the one who was in charge of boys first grade through sixth grade. She was sort of an aircraft carrier of a woman. She was rather large, she was rather regal. I think someone had told her she looked like Mae west when she was much, much younger. She was really rather arrogant. She wore her hair, it had been blonde, I think it had turned gray, was long and she braided it and she put it up in a crown on top of her head, sort of like if Medusa had been Ukrainian. But what I really remember most about her were her shoes. She wore these little high heel, lace up, black open toe pumps. But she was utterly silent. And she would appear out of nowhere to find you doing the thing you didn't know was wrong and get pinched or slapped or at night she'd come to the bed, you pull down your pajama pants, you lie there on your stomach and she beats you with a razor strap. I don't even know where house mothers get razor straps. Is there a razor strap store for people who work in orphanages? It was a mystery to me. But again, there wasn't a lot I understood. I just had to adapt. One day, this was a turning point for me. She strode into the room in all her majesty and some of the boys were having a little race with their plastic cars. And she indifferently trod on a little airplane that was racing across the floor to see which was faster. And she turned it into smithereens. It was really kind of funny in a way, but it was also tragic because this was the only toy this little kid had. And of course she blamed him. And he got the strap last night. I have to tell you that it doesn't really matter where in the room the strap falls. You still feel it yourself. I lived in a dream world. I totally did. It was just too bizarre for me. I couldn't understand what was going on. I couldn't comprehend it. I couldn't absorb the emotional impact of what had happened to me. So I just went off and collected moths and kept them in my underwear drawer, hoping that they would lay eggs and hatch and eat my underpants. And then a flock of Mexican tiger moths would emerge with the beautiful black and pink wings and just fly out the window. During homework assignments, I would always finish first and we were allowed to look at the National Geographics that sat on the table nearby. I would go and pour through these for the most beautiful animals I could find. Eagles and panthers. I remember one picture I saw. A full page color photograph of an impala leaping through some grass in Africa. And slowly and steadily, at my life's risk, I tore that photograph out of the magazine while the house mothers were sleuthing around nearby. And I sneaked it into my textbook and I sneaked it upstairs to my cubbyhole on the third floor. And I sneaked with the scissors that I had stolen from my 5th grade classroom and I cut out very, very carefully all of the background paper from that impala, believing somehow that if I did it right, that impala would come to life and leap out of the third floor window of the junior boys and across across that roof and down into the woods across the way and live with the deer free. Of course, that never happened. That ended up a ball of paper on the floor of my cubby hole along with the eagle and the panther. The one thing I did do. But I'm still rather amazed that I had the nerve to take care of this, to do this myself. I would wake up in the night. Everyone was asleep. I would get up, my heart was beating so loudly I was surprised that the windows weren't rattling. I would steal out into the hallway past Ms. Thrasher's room, through the big push door to the communal bathroom where we brushed our teeth with. I would turn the lights on, I would take off my hand me down pajamas because I wanted nothing to do with the orphanage. I would take two towels down off the wall and I would start to dance. I would dance and those towels became wings. They became fins of Siamese fighting fish. They became the manes of wild horses. They were magical to me. And I just danced and spread and twirled until I was exhausted. And then I put the towels back, put my pajamas on and went back to bed. That was pretty much my life on a private level. But of course, you know, I mean, we were still isolated as we were. We did live in the real world. Time did go past. We did watch television. We knew that holidays happened. My 10th birthday came. I got a birthday card from my grandfather. Halloween came. We Got some candy corn. Thanksgiving came. We got a little more gravy than usual. And then Christmas began to happen. Now, Christmas, of course, is the big one. Even then, Christmas was the big one. And Christmas is a hard one because it's about a family, for God's sake. And here we all were, outcasts. No one wanted us. I didn't even know why they locked the doors and didn't let us just run away at night. They wouldn't have to feed us. So it was like getting the outside of a holiday. The wreaths went up a huge tree in the front hall with gorgeously decorated packages, we found out later were empty boxes that were used as props year after year after year, so that the visitors would come and think that there was much more festivity than actually was in place. Now, I had my grandfather's address from that birthday card I had gotten for my 10th birthday. So I sent him, daringly, a request for a Christmas present I had seen on television and on the back of a comic book, an ad for a remote control Thunderbird automobile. A little toy about this big. I was thrilled with it. Thunderbirds were so cool and remote control. Wow. It would be so cool to play with it. And then I could hide behind one of the beds. And when Ms. Thrasher came through the door, I could send my Thunderbird on a suicide mission and trip that woman so her fat ass fell right on the floor. I didn't care how many beatings I would get. I would be the hero of the Junior boys. I would be a legend in my own time. So I sent the letter and promptly forgot about it because I was a boy living in an orphanage. What hope that I have. And so, as time happens, Christmas came. We went to church. We had a bigger meal than usual. All the presents in the downstairs we knew were empty boxes. So the junior boys went back upstairs to our third floor enclave. And there were socks and underwear for everyone. And then there was a few boxes. And there was a box for me, a really big box. Surely they wouldn't give me this much underwear. And I opened the wrapping paper, and it was the Thunderbird convertible. The remote control Thunderbird convertible in my hands in the box. And there on the COVID was a little boy with a handheld control with a little steering wheel that was separate and you could make the car go left and right at your command. And I just. I was astonished. So I ripped the box open. And there lying in the paper is the gleaming, brand new turquoise and white Thunderbird convertible. And there at the other end Is this clever battery included power source with the clicks for left and right and you can turn it with your little turn. But in between, wrapped up in this brown paper, were these cables, these black electrical cables that were hooked up to the rear end of the remote control Thunderbird and then the other end, about 3ft later was hooked up to the manual control. I said, this is no more remote control than a glove. There goes my plan for being the hero of the Junior boys. How on earth am I going to deal with this? I was truly disgusted. And the worst thing was that around that connecting cable was a very thin skin of a sort of a purple, gray, blue, brown plastic held in place by sort of like the ancestor of zip ties. And I could tell as soon as I saw it that someone meant this is invisible. You don't see this. I was furious. I was livid. I couldn't believe it, but I was desperate. And besides, it was Christmas and I was 10 years old and it was a toy. So I got it out and I tried to make it go and it sort of sluggishly went forward and then I tried to make it go backwards and it got caught in its own cabling. And then I tried to make it turn. It was like sluggish to the left and sluggish to the right. And I was very persistent because I thought, well, maybe I can treat the car like a trapdoor spider. Maybe it can like jump out and come back and make her fall down, maybe jump out and come back. But by the time I played with it for about 20 minutes, it had inextricably tangled itself in the legs of a little chair. And I had to pick the chair up to get the car out. And so I looked around the room and I saw the boy I hated the most and I gave the car to him and I went back to taking care of moths in my underwear drawer and dancing in the dark. Now I stayed in the orphanage for about eight more months. My brothers came out a year after that, and then for another year there was horrible abuse at home. And then a year later they were sent back again. We rarely lived in the same house ever again. That part is something I almost never, ever talk about. But I still think about that God damn car. I still think about that God damned length of invisibility plastic. I mean, how could someone, an adult who wore a tie to work and probably got health insurance, have a job to make things to fool 10 year old boys? How low is that? And you know, I still have a little bit of that anger when I see those commercials on television for the unpronounceable new drug, for a new syndrome we didn't even know we had. And we're watching people jump into mirror clear lakes with their arms full of Labrador retriever puppies when their body should be on fire and their heads should be bursting from all the side effects that the disembodied disclaimer voice is telling you about, and see if Ms. Blixatrix is right for you. So Christmas is not really my best time of year. It's a little difficult. But I have to tell you, I mean, in spite of this background, I can tell you my life has been unimaginably different from what that background would have led me to believe. I mean, I have a relationship with the same man for 30 years. I have a Master of Fine Arts, which is why I was able to teach glassblowing in Philadelphia and write, this minute in the Whitney Museum in Manhattan on the third floor is a piece of my artwork. How weirdly improbable is that? I mean, who knew? Ah, ah, ah. But I have to tell you, this is the other side of the story. Institutionalization leaves a mark. All kids who go through this kind of thing know that it's their fault. And I have to tell you, I'm simply being honest, that as I walk through the world, I feel as though I'm really passing for normal. I really feel as though I have to look like I belong because I know that there's something. It's only the outside. It's only the outside. Inside, there's no connection. So what I'm really thrilled about, about being able to be here tonight is to share this story about what really did happen, hoping that most of you won't have any idea of what I'm talking about, will think it's really just sort of fascinating. But somebody. Somebody might relate, somebody might understand on one level or another. And I just want to let you know you're not alone. I'm not alone. We're not alone. Have the sweetest possible holiday. Thank you.
Manolo Matos
The summer solstice of 1993. I died. I didn't die in the hospital. This is not a story about seeing myself floating above my body or a terrible accident. I died. And I was brought back to life in a room surrounded by people dressed in white, some of them with capes. In the middle of that room, there was a table. And on top of the table, there was a sword, a wooden staff, a coin. It was part of a ritual of initiation to a secret society. I was really excited, but I was also really scared, especially when I. When I went in the room and I saw the actual room that was off limits for non initiates. The room had a pentagram drawn on the middle of the floor with a circle around it. And everybody was standing in a circle around this table with all these instruments for the ceremony. My hands were sweating and I was shaking a little bit throughout the ceremony when there were things that I had to do, like take a coin from the initiator. My hands were shaking as I was extending my hand to grab that coin. The founder and leader of this group was a man named John. John was probably in his mid-60s. He had gray straight hair. He was a short man, shorter than me. He was maybe 5, 8. He had brown eyes that always seemed to be shifting and scanning the room. Whenever he was in public in the ceremony, he had a purple cloak and a cape. It looked like he was some kind of wizard. He was a very charismatic figure. He was soft spoken, except when he was addressing a crowd. And when he talked to groups, he commanded attention. Everybody hung on his words like he had the knowledge of the universe. And sometimes he did. John asked me if I was ready to die, and I answered yes, reluctantly, because I wasn't sure what was happening. And then he grabbed the sword and he put it to my neck. He put it to where you would do a tracheotomy on somebody. And I thought at the moment that's he's pushing it too hard. I didn't know if it was going to go all through my neck or what was he going to do. It was a mystery. We didn't know anything about the ceremony. We weren't explained what was happening. We didn't know anything that was happening. We were completely blind. Walking into this ceremonial room, not knowing what was going to happen, it was electrifying. I felt this rush of energy. It was just a second, but it seemed like a long time to me. Finally, he pulled the sword back and he went on to the next person. And he didn't say a word until he finished doing it to the last two new members. And then he returned to the table and said, now you are reborn. And because of this, I will give you a new name. Ever since I was a child, I was asking for answers. I could never find the answers. In the Catholic Church, the answers were always like, you're going to hell or you're going to heaven. And one seemed impossible and the other one seemed boring. So I was never satisfied with the answers. When I started Reading about these teachings and learning from John and learning from the group, I started getting answers that made more sense. Reincarnation made more sense to me than just dying and going to hell or heaven. And karma seemed to make everything more just so. These answers were way more satisfying. That's what attracted me to this group. I was really proud to be part of this group. I was really proud to be part of the Sacred Order of the Corpus Hermeticum. I felt like I had my family, and John was the head of that family. He was the one that was directing us to be the change the world needs. We were all following him. From John, we learned meditation and we learned Jungian psychology, Kabbalah, sacred geometry. I worked on forgiveness. I worked with my inner child and a lot of other practices from different philosophies. And all these are basically a journey. A journey to be better. And that's what we were all doing. That's what I was doing in the group. By studying all these practices, I felt like my life was on track. All these I have to thank John for. He's the one that was teaching me all these things. After one of the meetings with John, we were all talking, and I mentioned that my mom had passed a year before. And John turned his head to me and stared at me. And when I finished talking, he put his hand on my shoulder and he said to me, manolo, you reveal too much. The more you share about yourself, the more vulnerable you are. The more other people can control you, the more other people can hurt you. And after that, I started being more reserved on what I said and being very careful about who I said things to. I thought that was a profound thing that I learned from him. He also teached me how to react to situations with my head and not with my feelings. I, at one point, had a huge argument with my girlfriend. I thought she was cheating on me. And we had a huge argument. We were at a park next to her college. It was late at night. We were arguing. And I kept telling her that I knew that she was cheating on me with some student that she was going to school with. And she was crying, and I was livid. I was crying, but I was crying because I was so mad. I wasn't crying because I was sad that she was cheating on me or any of that. I saw red at that time. She was sitting on a bench, crying. And I'm over her, yelling at her and pointing at her. I mean, a very, very aggressive way of talking to somebody. Literally talking down to her. And at that time, I heard John's words in my mind, in my head. And they said, all the decisions and all the things that you do, you have to do with your mind, not with your feelings. And I took a pause, and that calmed me down. And it made me not get physical with her. I was about to get physical with her. I was about to actually grab her. And that thought put a stop to that immediately. So John's words were actually really helping me cope with sometimes very emotional, sometimes very dangerous things in my life. There was another thing that made me look up to John. He seemed to have an impossible connection to the metaphysical. Like he has psychic powers or something. I remember one time I was taking a medic first aid course, and I got to a meeting late, and John was visiting and he was doing a conference. In the middle of that talk, John stopped and said, well, if there's anything that happens here or any problems, we're okay, because Manolo is taking a medic first day training, and he will be able to handle the situation, so we're in safe hands with him. And my thought was, wow, how can. How can he know this? I felt an electricity that went through my body. Like when somebody touches you and you're not expecting them and you're in the dark, or when you see a ghost or you think you see a ghost. At the end of the conference, he was getting ready to get in a car. Somebody was driving him, and he was waiting to leave. And I said, john, how. How did you know that I was taking the medic first aid training? And he looked at me and he put his finger on my forehead where a third eye would be. And he said, you will know. And I felt this tingling in my forehead that I felt for a while after this happened. And he said, when you're in the group for a while, you will know things, but that takes time. I was very excited, very excited, because when I joined the group, I thought I was going to better myself. And I knew that I was going to get tools to do that. But what this was telling me was that I was going to get some kind of psychic powers. I was gonna know things that people don't know. I was gonna be able to read minds. I was gonna be able to do all these exciting things that you always want to do from when you're little. Like, you know, you wanna have x ray vision when you're a kid. It might be for bad reasons to look under people's dresses and stuff, but I felt like that. I felt like I was gonna get some Magical powers from John. It was like cracking the door to allow me to see the things that were possible if I continued in this path. At some point in the year 2000, the person that was in charge of the group in Puerto Rico called me. When I answered the call, she said, I'm calling you because John's in the hospital. John was living in Mexico at the time. She told me that he was at a supermarket. And he was coming out of the supermarket. They grabbed him and he fell to the ground after they hit him in the face. And then they started kicking him on the ground and he lost consciousness and they kept beating him. They really wanted to kill him and they thought that he was dead when they left. When I heard this over the phone, I got weak on the knees and I sat down because I thought, this is happening again. I'm losing somebody that is dear to me again, and I didn't want to lose John. John was very important to me, and I didn't know what was happening. I felt like despair is the only word that I can use to describe what I felt when I heard this. Also impotence. Because I was. Was so far away, I couldn't help. I couldn't go and sit in the hospital with him. I couldn't do anything. And also I was thinking, who would do this to an old person who would beat somebody to the point that they almost killed them? For the first week and a half, we really didn't know if he was going to make it or not. It was touch and go, and they couldn't give us any information because they really didn't have any information to give us. They just had to wait. About a week and a half into it, he started responding. He came out of the coma and he was better. It's not like he was completely healed. It took him months to heal and get out of the hospital, but at least we were not worried that he was going to die at any minute. And after that, he wasn't the same. He was very weak. Well, you can imagine somebody receiving a beating and being left for dead at 70 when what they would look like. And then in 2002, I went to Costa Rica and I saw him after the incident and I almost cried when I saw him because he didn't look like the same person. He looked like he had aged 20 years. He was very fragile. We had one of the meetings, and after the meeting they told us that the group was going to be led by a group of members and not just one person like they had been doing with John. And I didn't know why they were doing that. So I asked this person, what's going on? Why is John not going to be the leader anymore? And he said to me, well, haven't you heard? And I said, I don't know anything. And he said, well, John's a pedophile. And I said, what? And he said, yeah, John. He was abusing children. It was like the tunnel vision and the ringing in your ears that you get when somebody hits you in the head. This was like a gut punch that left me without air. I couldn't even react. I couldn't believe it. My first reaction was, no, this is not possible. How do you know this? Are they 100% sure that this happened? Is this just an accusation? Has he gone to court for this? What's going on? And then my next reaction was a very visceral reaction of wanting to throw up. Bile was coming from my stomach. I felt like I was in a tunnel, even though I was in a huge ballroom. It was a really, really dark day. Really dark day in my life. My world had crumbled just because I had him in such high esteem. I really wanted to be like him. He was my, Like I said, my mentor. And then I had a conversation with somebody from the group from Costa Rica, and I asked him, I said, did you guys know about this? When did you find out? And that person said, well, you know, we've seen some things that we haven't mentioned or said anything about. We saw him one time in Nicaragua take a boy to his room. And I said, why didn't you say anything about that to anybody? He said, well, you know, we're in a different country. Starting stuff like that in a different country is very complicated. You know, we could be involved in legal things, and we had to come back to this country to do it. And when he was giving me all these excuses, I felt horrible. I felt so disappointed. This person I had in really high esteem. It disappointed me. Just like John, you know, I was thinking, is this really happening? Is this really the people that I've been sharing my life with for all these years? I thought we were in the group to be better, but is this really being better? Not doing anything when you see a kid being abused? I had all these questions, and I really didn't know what to do. I felt like everything that I stood for was crumbling around me. It wasn't just John. It was a lot of people in the group that were justifying behavior like this. And then I started thinking back of all the times that I saw things that were strange. I, in 2000 had seen John with some girl, she was 12 at the time. And he introduced her as his granddaughter. And I thought, oh wow. I didn't know John had a granddaughter in Mexico. The group brought some mariachis and they were playing in the lobby of the hotel and we were having a great time. And I kept looking at John and he was hugging her and being very loving with her, but in a way that was not appropriate even for a grandfather. And of course that all made sense. Then two years later I found out that this girl that he was with in Mexico was the reason why he got beat up. It was one of the family members of this girl that beat him up when he was coming out of this supermarket in Mexico. It wasn't about a robbery, which makes sense. Then I also remembered in DOMINICAN REPUBLIC In 1998, I went to say goodbye to him and when we went to his room, he was there with a 14 year old boy. At the moment I didn't think of anything. I thought, well, he's also saying goodbye to John like we were. And I looked back and I was wondering what happened before we got there or after we got there. And I looked at all these times that I was seeing things, but I wasn't putting two plus two together. Thinking back, also, I thought of the day that he told me he knew that I was taking a medic first aid course. I thought that because I was late that day, anybody could have told him. And he wasn't really a sign of any psychic ability or any knowledge. It was just probably somebody told him. And then he used that as a way of manipulating me into thinking that not only he had that ability, but also that I was at some point going to get that ability. Which by the way, spoiler alert, I never got. So I decided to leave the group. And there's a lot of people that left the group. The group really went down to like maybe half of the members after this happened and was known. And in 2006 I found out that John was going to be indicted and sent back to Florida to face charges on an abuse of somebody that he had abused in Florida. I'm not sure if it was a boy or a girl. But then a few weeks after, John was at home with his adopted son and he said that he didn't feel good. He said he was going to take a nap and he went to bed at 10 o'clock in the morning and at 12 o'clock his son went to call him and see if he wanted to have lunch. And John was dead. So he never faced any charges for this. He never had to pay for what he did. And it was really hard for me. I tried to separate what I learned from this person and the monster that he was. And it took me years, years to be able to separate one thing from the other. Until I realized that the good things that I learned from him that I still use today is good for me. And it doesn't matter who I learned it from. I finally moved on with my life. And I still have amazing friends from the group that I call from time to time and we talk. And it's a really amazing family that I still have, even though the leader of that family was a horrible person. But at the moment I have dealt with it, I feel grateful, even though I had this terrible experience with this person, of the things that I gained, the people that I met, the friends that I have, and the teachings of this horrible, horrible human being that ultimately lived two different lives. And I was sharing his bright side of his life.
Walter Zimmerman
To live on Sugar Mountain with the barkers and the colored balloons. You can't be 20 on Sugar Mountain, though. You're thinking that you're leaving there too soon. You're leaving there too soon.
Kevin Allison
This is risk. This is Neil Young behind me now. And we just heard from Manolo Matos. Manolo has been podcasting since 2010, and his Spanish language podcast, Cucubano is 10 years old this year. Cucubano blends storytelling and cultural commentary. Manolo is a dynamic voice in the Puerto Rican podcasting community. Look for him on linktree at Manolomattos. I have a little fantasy of one day being able to do podcasts in Thai one day. And before that, we heard from Walter Zimmerman. He said that although his story is about orphans, it's not exactly Annie. Folks, as you know, I have diagnosed severe ADHD and I have a lot on my to do list this year. So I am being coached by my good friend, Adam Griffin. You might remember us running ads for Adam's coaching. He is certified by the International Coaching Federation, but he found his specialization in working with people with adhd. This is his passion. I've rarely seen someone as passionate as Adam is about coaching for adhd. He experiments with you to find the task management systems that work for you and supports you in drilling down into what you really want to prioritize. He's your accountability partner for forming new habits. He helps you claim or reclaim the ways your ADHD is actually a gift one of Adam's regular clients is a risk listener, and he has always been so thrilled about the work they do together. She found him through us talking about him on the show, and I'm so touched to know that. So if you are feeling kind of buried underneath too much to do, you're feeling maybe unmotivated to follow through on things, or you're anxious and depressed about managing your days, reach out to Adam Griffin for his ADHD coaching. You can say to yourself, my ADHD coach is the same as Kevin Allison's. You can find Adam. You can email him at ADHD Brains. That's brains with a Z rather than an s@icloud.com ADHD brainsicloud.com Brains with a Z Folks, I'll bet you are ready for some happy stories. All right. I mean, good. Good Christ, aren't we all? Well, you're in luck because Thursday we have the best of Happy Stories Number two. But guess what day that is? I already told you, it's Thursday. Meanwhile, folks, today's the day Take a risk.
Walter Zimmerman
Oh, to live on Sugar Mountain. With the box darkers and the colored balloon, you can't be 20 on Sugar Mountain, though. You're thinking that you're leaving there too soon.
Kevin Allison
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Manolo Matos
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Kevin Allison
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Manolo Matos
Visit your local Portland Verizon store by April 2nd to save $20. Monthly promo credits applied over 36 months.
Kevin Allison
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Manolo Matos
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Kevin Allison
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Manolo Matos
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RISK! Podcast Episode Summary: "Patreon Picks #5"
Release Date: March 25, 2025
Introduction
In the "Patreon Picks #5" episode of RISK!, host Kevin Allison presents a curated selection of compelling stories previously exclusive to Patreon members. This episode features three profound narratives that delve into personal struggles, institutional challenges, and transformative experiences. The stories are raw, unfiltered, and offer listeners a glimpse into the extraordinary lives of the contributors.
Duration: 05:10 - 15:24
Emmy Turner opens up with a harrowing account of her internal battle with the desire to be liked, which spirals into an elaborate deception leading to significant personal consequences.
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Notable Quotes:
Summary: Emmy recounts her tumultuous experience of grappling with an existential crisis rooted in her obsession with being liked. Her journey illustrates the destructive power of prioritizing others' perceptions over personal truth. The narrative culminates in the devastating realization that her fabricated story about an abortion was, in fact, grounded in reality, further complicating her emotional state and relationships.
Duration: 26:42 - 67:40
Walter Zimmerman delivers a poignant and reflective story about his childhood experiences in an orphanage, marked by abuse and confusion, and the long-term impact these events had on his life.
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Summary: Walter's narrative transports listeners to his early years in a Presbyterian Children's Orphanage, where he and his siblings faced emotional and physical abuse under the supervision of strict house mothers like Miss Thrasher. The story delves into his coping mechanisms, such as collecting moths and dancing in darkness, which provided temporary escapes from his grim reality. A pivotal moment occurs during Christmas, where Walter's desire to be heroic leads to a futile attempt to use a malfunctioning remote-controlled car against an abusive authority figure. This incident epitomizes the futility and frustration of his attempts to assert control in an oppressive environment. Ultimately, Walter reflects on the lasting scars of institutionalization and his journey toward healing and establishing meaningful relationships despite his traumatic past.
Duration: 46:53 - 73:22
Manolo Matos shares a surreal and intense experience involving initiation into a secret society, exploration of metaphysical beliefs, and the shocking revelation of his mentor's abuse.
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Notable Quotes:
Summary: Manolo recounts his initiation into a secret society during the summer solstice of 1993, a ritual that symbolized rebirth and imparted new spiritual insights. Under the charismatic leadership of John, the group delved into various philosophies and psychological practices aimed at personal transformation. However, Manolo's admiration for John is abruptly shattered when accusations of child abuse surface, revealing John's true nature as a predator. This revelation forces Manolo to confront the dissonance between the teachings he valued and the heinous actions of his mentor. Struggling with feelings of betrayal and impotence due to the group's attempts to downplay the abuse, Manolo eventually leaves the society. His story is a testament to the resilience required to disentangle valuable personal growth from the devastating impact of toxic leadership.
Conclusion
The "Patreon Picks #5" episode of RISK! delivers a powerful collection of stories that explore the depths of human emotion, the complexities of personal growth, and the enduring impact of past traumas. Emmy Turner, Walter Zimmerman, and Manolo Matos each offer unique perspectives that resonate with listeners, highlighting the courage it takes to share such intimate and challenging experiences. This episode underscores RISK!'s commitment to unearthing and presenting stories that are not only entertaining but also deeply meaningful.